The Spiritualist's Dilemma

Man In a Coat

Maya hurried to the door of the professor's house, leaving Ernst fumbling on the pavement. She had nicked the key hoop from the professor's pocket before taking his leave in the evening. There were half a dozen keys in the hoop and it took three attempts for Maya to finally open the main door and step inside. The house lay in complete darkness and apart from the faint rhythmic snoring of the old man it was wrapped in a veil of silence. Maya lit a match and hopped softly to the room whose window had been subjected to the latest bout of calligraphy. It lay to the right of the living room and the door was locked. Carefully Maya again tried the keys to open the door and this time found success in the very first attempt. Unlike the rest of the house, the room was not dark, a candle was lit on a tall circular table just beside the window, perhaps to make it easy for the outsider to see the symbols. Maya took the candle and surveyed the room. It was empty, there was no piece of furniture other than the tall circular table upon which the candle had been kept, no place for the intruder to hide. And yet there was no sign of the person who had drawn the symbols. Bending down, Maya found the same muddy footsteps all over the place. There was no other clue, no place where the man could have vanished. The floorboards all looked solid, so did the walls. How could someone just vanish in thin air? Exasperated, Maya studied the symbols, again the same pattern of 8 characters with no specific meaning. She was copying the symbols in her notebook when she suddenly saw some movement out on the street. A man in an overcoat and a top hat had stopped just in front of the house and was gazing curiously towards the window, a notepad in hand.

Maya's heart stopped beating for a moment. This was the man.

Maya opened the window to get a better look at him. But it was too dark and as soon as the window opened, the man pocketed the notepad, pulled his overcoat around his face, and began to flee. Maya could not let him escape. She grabbed her purse and dexterously (her years in circus jumping through flaring hoops helping her) jumped out of the window. The man was tall and had long quick strides. When Maya emerged onto the street, there was already a gap of a hundred yards between the two. She looked back towards Ernst but the High Guard was lying on the pavement snoring. The young woman took off her one shoe and began to run like a being possessed. She had to catch the man, there was no other way. This was her only chance at solving this mystery.

Cold night breeze rushed past her disheveled hair as she crossed rows of sleeping houses. Stray dogs dozing on the wayside behind garbage bins peered at her with droopy eyes, the more industrious ones stood up and followed her barking. The tall man looked back once or twice but the distance between the two was so great that his features were not visible at all. At the end of Mill Street, the man stood still for a moment looking towards both sides, as if making his mind, then took a left towards the temple bridge. It was clear that he was not from this area. Maya gave chase breathlessly, the distance between the two actually seemed to have reduced by a dozen yards. The two ran on almost empty roads until the man entered the stone archway to the Temple Bridge. The Temple Bridge, a living breathing structure, with houses and shops built on an ancient stone bridge was crowded even at this time of the night. A narrow paved path threaded through the packed rows of houses and wooden shops. Underneath the bridge, the Arabian Sea heaved and hissed. The man glanced once more towards Maya before turning and clattering into a fisherman with a basket full of fishes upon his head. He got up, adjusted his hat, then slipped once on the slimy water before continuing onwards even as the fisherman aimed a fish at him as well as a flurry of swears. The bridge was bustling with activity – hawkers on carts, washermen venturing to work, fishermen with baskets, people throwing garbage out into the sea. It was hard to keep pace in the crowded lane, harder still to keep an eye on the running man. There was no way that Maya could overtake him through the crowd. She looked around. On the left, the rows of houses and shops with their gabled roof provided a better vantage point. Maya rushed towards a wooden cart parked beside a house, clambered upon it even as the people around stopped on their tracks to observe the crazy woman. Maya then stepped upon a window, climbed above onto the window arch, then crossed one window more and emerged onto the gabled roof. From her high vantage point, she scanned the crowded bridge. It took her little time to locate the man on the road below. He was still running, glancing at times behind him to locate his follower. Maya began to rush forward on the roof, jumping from one house to the next and soon was exactly above the man. The hat upon his head prevented her from getting a clearer view at him, he seemed to have also tied a handkerchief around his face. In another fifty yards the bridge would end and the man would emerge once more on the open road, he might even be able to board a hansom and it would be impossible to get to him then. Maya decided to rush onwards then clamber down into the street and intercept the man. But there was a problem, the continuous row of houses was broken in the middle by an empty space where a house had recently been demolished. A space of more than 20 feet lay between Maya and the next house. If she clambered to the street here, she would still be behind the man she was following. She had to get over to the other side. A single jute rope hung from the roof to the other side. Maya stepped upon the rope. It had been three years since she had practiced the trick of walking on a rope but figured she could still do it. Failure would mean certain death. But there was no other choice.

Maya stepped gingerly on the rope and barely escaped toppling over. She took a deep breath, raised her hand high on either side, and continued. Once she had gotten over the initial trouble, the remaining 15 feet posed little problem. She emerged on the other side, the man was still a few yards behind. Maya clambered down the roof, jumped upon a window shed, then straight onto a cart of wool parked on the street. The man saw Maya emerge from the roof and before Maya could get back up on her feet he had run ahead. Maya followed him once more, this time much closer, but the bridge had ended, and in the distance, out onto the road she saw a cluster of horse hansoms. The man summoned one while still running and soon a cart stopped beside him. He had taken one step onto the cart when Maya jumped and latched firmly onto his overcoat. But the man was adamant at getting away, he let go of the overcoat and quickly settled inside the cart closing the door behind him, but not before Maya had a glimpse of the bright blue uniform he wore underneath. The man was a High Guard?

Maya was left rolling on the dirty pavement with the discarded overcoat as the horse cart rumbled ahead. She got up disappointed and saw the cart fade into the darkness. Maya dusted herself then looked at the overcoat. It was new and she could see the mark of the Tailor inside, it might be possible to find the man through the tailor. She scrounged the pockets of the garment in the hope of some more clues.

They were empty apart from a single piece of paper. It was a colorful card, like the ones that people stuck on top of gifts. Maya stepped into the glow of a Street Lamp to inspect her discovery. The note on the card was in a neat slanting hand which Maya was sure she had seen before.

"Wish you a prosperous future in South Africa.

Your Friend,

Ernst Wilhelm"